


Untrappable

by LuxaLucifer



Series: The Love of Zevran Arainai's Lives [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, the title is a pun because there's a trap, there's a trap okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3783658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxaLucifer/pseuds/LuxaLucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can't move my leg!"</p><p>The battle had ended and Zevran was still breathing hard, wiping his daggers down. He heard the Warden’s cry of anguish and stood, head whipping around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untrappable

"I can't move my leg!"

The battle had ended and Zevran was still breathing hard, wiping his daggers down. He heard the Warden’s cry of anguish and stood, head whipping around.

“Brosca,” he called, “Where are you?”

He spotted her before she had a chance to reply, her leg caught in a trap. His heart sank. He’d thought he’d gotten them all, deftly disarming them before the battle had begun. He’d been wrong.

He ran to her side, dropping any pretense of amusement or playful banter. She grinned at him tiredly, hands slick with blood as she attempted to pry the trap off her leg.

“Calm down,” he said. “I’ve got this.”

He smoothed the hair off her sweaty forehead before wiping his hands on his armor and prying the armor apart. By the time he had, Alistair had realized what was going on and come over, frowning deeply at their Warden’s state.

“I’ve got you,” said Zevran absentmindedly as he put his strength into it and pulled hard enough to finally dislodge it.

“I could have-” began Alistair, because he was bigger and stronger but it was Zevran who needed to know, who needed to make sure the warden was okay not because she was their leader but because he cared about her, more than he thought he could, more than he wanted to, because caring was dangerous and painful and not looked well upon by the Crows.

Except he was no longer a Crow, and there was nothing stopping him from gathering her up in his arms and carrying her back to camp.

“Hold on,” he murmured, voice low. She stopped writhing, exhaustion written all over her face as he pulled her up and into his grip, carrying her tight against his chest as they walked back to camp.

“You’re a cute one, you know that?” she said, gripping a band of his arm with her smaller fingers, obviously in pain. “You care more than you think you do.”

“Shhh,” he said quietly, smiling despite himself. “Someone might hear.”

“I don’t care if they do,” she said. She was a loud one, his Brosca. He liked that about her. He liked almost everything about her. He held her as they walked back and tried to pretend it wasn’t the first time he’d ever carried anyone this way.


End file.
